Wordplay

by BRK   

Pavel makes a case for his fellow boarding school students that there are a lot of body-related expressions in English, though his classmates aren’t aware of exactly how Pavel is proving his point.

“Idioms in English are totally strange,” Pavel said one Sunday morning in the locker room of the Mountain Lake Boarding School’s basement gym, after one of the senior class’s pre-sunrise group workouts. The remark was totally out of the blue, but something of the kind was not really unexpected, and they knew there was more coming. “So many of them are about the body,” he went on, musing. “Did you realize that?”

The rest of them in the tiny 12th grade class—all six of them, not counting Pavel—just rolled their eyes as they finished toweling off from the shower, used to his frequent and lengthy tirades on the vagaries of his second language compared to his “methodical” and “rational” Russian during the boring lulls between the infrequent classes at this remote and indifferently run outpost. His English was as good as theirs—and a lot better than Joey’s, Zack thought wryly and a little unfairly—but the random idiosyncrasies you uncover when you learn new tongues seemed to fascinate him, and whatever interested Pavel, he talked about.

It was true that they liked having him around and found him diverting, each of them for various reasons. For Zack the main reasons were that Pavel was a gym rat Adonis with a hot St. Petersburg accent to match a perfectly sculpted bod, sweetly boyish face, thick shoulder-length jet-black hair, and mesmerizing midnight-blue eyes. He was also smart, with a wicked, dry sense of humor, and told funny stories of his bizarre cousins in the “old country”, all of which passed the time just fine in the long in-between hours when they weren’t working out together or rambling the steep, thickly wooded countryside or (when they remembered) attending classes.

So they put up with his eccentricities, most of which seemed to involve his playful fascination with the second language he loved to pick apart. Lately it had been taking Zack’s mind off the increasingly ominous sense that something very strange was going on at Mountain Lake Boarding School. For months the staff had leaving one by one, teachers and support staff included. Two weeks ago the other grades having been carted off to some other boarding school on the other side of the mountains. It was starting to feel like the seven of them were progressively being left alone here, but Zack couldn’t be sure what was happening or what it meant. Zack also seemed to be alone in his forebodings.

The other guys seemed to like having fewer obnoxious students around, not to mention homework-assigning instructors. They also seemed to be reveling in their mutual company to an almost unnatural extent, which Zack understood, as he was feeling that as well, in spades. And whenever Zack had asked Mr. Harrison, the genial young English lit prof who seemed to be their main adult presence these days, what could possibly be going on, he just laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled, and then it seemed sort of like the next moment Zack was reading his latest sci-fi novel or in the dining hall chowing down on the school’s specialty, the could-have-been-world-famous three-cheese lasagna. Zack was definitely going to pin Mr. Harrison down today about what the fuck was going on.

Still, as diverting as Pavel tended to be from troubling mysteries and strange, lingering dreams, it didn’t do to encourage him too much or he’d never let up. Ever since he’d come back to school after his estranged and, by all accounts, also very strange dad had passed away a month or so ago off in some drafty mansion in Minsk or someplace like that, Pavel had quickly gone from being the scrawny kid who always babbled excitedly about words to someone still voluble but also crafty, like he knew better than to say something that wasn’t a nudge meant to spark a reaction.

Scrawny? Zack corrected himself. Where did that come from? However else he’d changed in the years since Zack had been unceremoniously abandoned at their very own Island of Misfit Toys, Pavel had certainly never been scrawny.

As if the thought occurring to him about Pavel’s shit-stirring motives had been a psychic cue of some sort, Kenny piped up to deride Pavel’s premise. “C’mon, there aren’t that many of those,” he scoffed, and the rest of them groaned internally. Kenny was a sporty London-born twink with floppy blond hair and an obsession with soccer (which he tended to still call “football” even after five whole years in the States)—both watching and playing, if he could get a game up. He was new to their little group, having just arrived at Mountain Lake the previous term, and his crush on Pavel was all the more intense for its relative infancy. Consciously or not, his innocent amour tended to manifest, as now, in goading Pavel in ways that tended to encourage him and his prolix discourse. He was actually kind of eager to engage in general, but especially when it came to the deluxe hunk among them, Pavel.

“You’re always going on about how English is full of this or replete with that,” Kenny went on calmly, pulling on his navy uniform pants, “but you’re always way off base. It’s just a language,” he added, zipping up his fly with a quick and slightly furtive glance at the object of his affections. “Just words to communicate,” he said as his buttoned the top trouser button. Kenny was still shirtless and now Zack was noticing his pecs and shoulders seemed somehow more prominent than he’d thought before. Obviously, Zack mused with a smirk, Kenny had been quietly pushing himself in the gym to try to measure up to his bigger, hotter fellow student, without any of them noticing.

Their Russian amateur linguist cocked an eyebrow. “No?” Pavel asked him, loosely gripping onto both ends of the towel he had hanging over his pleasingly broad and bumpy shoulders. Zack tried not to look at bunching biceps or the plump, uncut sausage this maneuver seemed designed to showcase. “I will tell you what,” he said, addressing all of them as they generally stood up from tying shoes and closing up their bags. “I’ll let you all discover what I mean.”

He grabbed his right earlobe in that way he had, and said, “For the rest of the day, every time one of you mentions a part of the body, it will increase in size if it’s a muscle and in quantity if it’s anything else.” It sounded like he’d prepared the words, as if he’d been toying with doing this, but now he paused and thought about what he just said, fingers still gripping his ear. They stared at him, frozen. After a beat Pavel added, “And if it’s both, it’s both.” He frowned, considering further. “If it’s internal organs or something I don’t think would be sexy bigger or more numerous, it’ll just make your dick bigger.” He paused again, maybe considering more caveats, then shrugged, soldiering on with his original plan. “No one will care and you’ll forget about this wish and think the changes were always there,” he intoned, casting his twinkling eyes across each of their blank faces, “and you’ll all also think it’s kinda hot. You’ll realize what happened when I decide to tell you.”

He let go of his earlobe, and they all sort of blinked at him, as if they’d had a collective brain-sludge moment. The whole preceding half-minute seemed to contract into nothing, dragging together the surrounding moments and sealing them firmly to each other like an edit to a film. Zack frowned, feeling like something had just happened, like when he had talked to Mr. Harrison.

Or—there’d been something like this last week, too, after a long hike in the endless woods behind the grounds. Pavel had been babbling all through the walk about how horny all guys their age were and how that only reinforced the constant homoerotic subtext coursing through the English language like a powerful, unrelenting undertow. Kenny, ironically since he really was always horny, had been ardently challenging him while Joey, just to annoy Kenny and stir things up in his own way, had rallied to Pavel’s defense. And then, after they’d stopped at the crest of Brewster Ridge to look out over the primeval valley below and they were all gathered together, about to go back down the hill, there’d been this odd, eerie moment where they’d all been looking at Pavel like he’d said something, only it was sort of dawning on them all that he hadn’t. After a couple seconds of Pavel smirking at them all, eyebrows furrowed in apparent amused confusion, they’d all shrugged in mild annoyance and started back on the trail home, lost in their own thoughts (Zack’s having to do with Joey’s ass as he negotiated the trail in front of him).

Now Zack looked around at the rest of the group, feeling a resonance with that moment up on the ridge and not sure why. The twins, as they had a habit of doing, exchanged glances that seemed to communicate volumes as they shrugged into the maroon-red school uniform polo shirts that really set off their moonlight-pale alabaster skin. In this case, though, it looked like most of what Evan and Iain were sharing with each other was confusion.

Luis spoke up, something of a surprise as he was usually the tall, smart but quiet one—but when things were off kilter he was the voice of reason, and as Pavel’s oldest friend seemed to have a vested interest trying to make him act normally and generally seem a little more mature. Which was fine with the others; they were happy to let Luis be the mature one, though he did balance it out with occasional, well-judged snark. He was already almost dressed except for his bare feet, school shirt and trousers looking a little loose on his fit but not very muscular arms, legs, and torso. “Tell us what?” Luis demanded, sitting down to pull on his white tennis shoes—another component of the boarding school uniform—but keeping his deep brown eyes fixed on Pavel, who was, Zack noticed belatedly, still naked except for the towel around his neck.

Pavel, rather than explaining, just winked at them. “You’ll see,” he said cryptically, as if he’d abruptly changed his mind about speechifying about English grammar after all. Thank heavens for small favors, Zack thought uneasily. Something was weird, but the others were already shrugging it off.

Joey huffed, sounding exasperated, and tossed his towel aside. He was the one who wanted to be a physical trainer and looked it. Apart from their resident supremely humpy dark-haired and dark-eyed prototype for a fitness model, Pavel—whose delightfully well filled out physique seemed designed mostly for ogling (and, at least in his private moments alone with his fantasies, licking)—the rest of them were pretty uniformly tight and toned, all very fit, but not muscled; but Joey was big and thick and looked like he’d been obsessively and tirelessly working out whenever everyone wasn’t looking, spending secret hours sculpting his body even better than it already was. Actually, if you really looked he wasn’t that much bigger than Pavel, but he looked harder and stronger, like he could punch through walls.

Joey’s only deficiency was that he hadn’t really done quite as much with his legs or glutes compared to his upper body, though and the dusting of sandy-brown scruff, matching the shock of clean-cut sandy hair he had up top (and the pits and the treasure trail and…) made them look a lot more… watchable than Pavel’s perfect, hairless thighs and calves. And really the glutes were still as fine to look at as Pavel’s, Or Luis’s. Or the twins’. Or any of them, really. They all had pretty hot asses, Zack thought to thimself.

“You’re such a dick,” Joey muttered fondly as he rooted through his gym bag for underwear. He found what he needed and stepped into a pair of hunter green boxer briefs, pulling them up over his thick, matching, partly chubbed cocks. Zack felt mildly conflicted watching them disappear into his shorts. On the one hand Zack missed the sight of Joey’s fat cocks, but on the other hand, they made a very nice bulge in their soft, snug prison—a fat, round, heavy out-thrusting from his body, held tight by the conforming fabric in an obscene ball the size of both his fists.

Joey caught Zack watching and quirked a corner of his mouth, seemingly glad for his equipment to be duly appreciated. This seemed kind of normal for them lately, Zack realized. Ever since Pavel’s last speech, they’d all been a lot more aware of each other somehow—especially their bodies, and their cocks. By this point Zack had been paying so much attention to the other guys over the last few weeks that he could have painted the junk for each member of their group from memory. They all seemed to be half-hard most of the time lately, too, for some reason.

Zack cut his eyes away from Joey’s package, only to see Pavel watching them both with smug satisfaction. Zack decided it was easier to meet Joey’s innocent hazel eyes than Pavel’s, which always seemed more calculating. Zack didn’t mistrust him, exactly, but he took his cue from Luis, who seemed to think Pavel liked to have plans afoot. Out of all of them Zack would have laid odds only on Luis to outthink Pavel.

Meeting Zack’s gaze, Joey nodded sideways with his head toward Pavel. “He’s just trying to make us all top each other with dumb body-themed puns all day,” he said dismissively. “He just doesn’t have the guts to come out and say so,” he added, winking at he. Zack nodded, though Zack wondered whether there was more going on than a game of puns. Distracted by his thoughts, Zack was unable to help himself from letting his eyes wander back down Joey’s body to his big, double-hose bulge.

Luis shook his head as he gave his attention to pulling on his shoes, right shoe first—Luis always did things a certain way. “Well, I’m not going to give him a leg up on such a devious intention,” he said dryly, pulling on and carefully tying his middle shoe (also a righty) before taking care of his left. He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and Zack wondered, not for the first time, if what the school did with Luis’s unused extra left shoe, or if it was a lot of bother for the tailors to stich up Luis’s three-legged trousers. They did a good job, Zack mused—they clung nicely to his muscular thighs and tight ass, though the same could really be said for all of them.

Luis paused and was looking at Zack and Pavel expectantly, as if they’d promised them all to do a tango together and they were letting the guys down. “Well?” he said, to both of them. Zack shook his head at him, miming bafflement. “Are you two going to get dressed?” Luis asked with faux exasperation.

Zack glanced at Pavel and then at himself. Pavel was still gloriously naked (his preferred state, to be honest), and though he’d gotten his uniform trousers and shoes on Zack was still shirtless. Zack looked around and realized that everyone else was already finished dressing—even the twins, who had a weird habit of dressing each other, though they did it with the rapid efficiency of a pit crew. They shaved each other, too. Actually Zack was the only one of them with any facial hair—just a patch of short, auburn whiskers on his chin that he kept because Joey had said once that it complemented his close-cropped red-brown hair and matching chocolate brown eyes nicely.

Zack grinned at Luis, pushing his hands palms-out toward him. “Easy, buddy,” Zack said. “Don’t get up in arms over nothing.” His grin widened as Luis visibly suppressed a groan and turned away, and Zack let his front arms drop back to lie against his back arms, the fists of which were in their usual place, thrust deep into his front pants pockets. Zack glanced at naked Pavel and he was eyeing Zack with what looked like impressed admiration, and his eyebrows drew together. Why would Pavel be looking at him like that?

“Just get dressed,” Joey said, sounding amused. He was already at the end of the lockers, gym bag in hand, his muscles and junk making all kinds of beautiful bulges in his close-fitting, slightly stretchy uniform. “We’re gonna be late for breakfast.”

“Yeah, we’re hungry,” Evan said as if in sudden realization. The twins went to stand by Joey.

“So don’t be an ass,” Joey said, though as he said this he winked at Zack. He turned and Zack was able to enjoy the delightful view of his thick, well-rounded ass straining his the back of his snug, tight trousers as he headed out, the twins and Kenny in tow.

Zack smiled and grabbed his sleeveless polo, shrugging it on hurriedly. Zack was so grateful to the headmaster, Mr. McCormick—was he ever going to come back from his extended vacation in Peru?—for letting him wear a sleeveless uniform after Zack told him that the four-arm version of the polo they’d mocked up was too constricting. The freedom of movement was really great, and there was something cathartic about methodically ripping the sleeves off of your school-issued shirts.

Finally ready, Zack grabbed his bag and headed for the door, turning suddenly to look back at Pavel. “Are you—” Zack started to say, then stopped. Zack’d expected to see him still naked, but he was fully dressed somehow. He was watching Zack closely, his hand dropping from its habitual tugging-spot on his ear. Zack looked him over, deciding that he looked just as yummy dressed in the figure-hugging uniform as he did naked. “—um, coming?” Zack finished, slightly awkwardly.

Pavel just smiled at him, and Zack smiled back as he turned and jogged out of the gym to catch up with the others, Pavel close behind.

They came together as a group on the broad, Maplewood stairs leading up to the main floor of the huge, sprawling boarding school complex. They didn’t make much noise in their school-issued tennis shoes, and the whole place seemed palpably empty. “Guys,” Zack said abruptly as they passed into the massive central hall, heading toward the dining commons and kitchens in the back, “I hate to carry on the ‘body puns’ theme of the day, but … there’s something I need to get off my chest.”

“This is already getting out of hand,” muttered Luis, the hint of a smile just visible. He exchanged glances with Pavel, who grinned at him, but Luis just shook his head, though he held onto his own faint smile. Zack noticed as they all walked together down the long corridor that both of Luis’s slim left hands, which (unlike Zack’s) depended from a single lanky left arm, were pushed together into the school trousers’ large front pocket; one fist gripping the other, Zack supposed. He wondered if it made his right pocket feel loose and empty with only one hand in it.

Zack couldn’t quite manage two fists in the pocket on either side, but he wasn’t quite as lithe and lanky as Luis, or as tall. Zack liked being proportioned the way he was, but he envied Luis his long, lanky body, not to mention is perfect caramel skin. And his sweet, sunny smile, which Luis was pretty judicious with except at very low wattages, like now.

Joey, meanwhile, wrapped an arm around his neck so he could playfully grab at Zack’s pecs through his sleeveless maroon polo. “And what a nice chest it is too,” he teased, as if Luis hadn’t said anything. Zack gave him a level glance—he knew his thick pecs were kind of out of proportion to his generally toned and lithe but not muscular body, but there were worse ways to be abnormal. Zack had decided the higher default size of his chest muscles came with the need to manage the extra arms, but he knew he didn’t have the classic measurements of Pavel or the thorough, driven development of Joey. Joey, for his part, just smiled good-naturedly at Zack, keeping his arm slung casually around his shoulders, letting him drink in Joey’s clean, soap-scented smell. The arm itself felt warm and heavy in a way that was altogether very nice. They’d gotten a lot more tactile lately and Zack wasn’t sure why, but that was one of things keeping his dick, as it was now, half hard and ready most of the time.

“What is it, Zack?” Iain asked politely, just to make sure that Zack knew the group did actually care about what he was saying. Zack noticed the twins had their arms around each others’ shoulders, too, but that was pretty much normal anyway, at least lately.

Zack decided to keep to the body-pun meme going just to try to keep things light. “The thing is,” Zack said, a little stagily to warn of the upcoming iteration of the morning’s running gag, “I don’t understand why you guys actually aren’t, you know, up in arms over everybody leaving the school.”

Joey, his arm still slung over Zack’s wide shoulders, huffed a laugh. “You’re ‘up in arms’ enough for all of us,” he said, and to make his point he brought up his other right hand to stroke Zack’s tightly packed triple delts and the three sets of well built upper arms on his right side. Meanwhile Joey’s warm, heavy front right arm remained where it was, the hand hung down to lightly brush at Zack’s big pecs.

Zack let out a big sigh. “Geez, please tell me you’re all are pulling my leg,” he said, not even intending that one—though he did tend to fixate on things. He tripped slightly over his middle foot but quickly found his balance. “Are you guys even listening to me?” Zack sighed.

“Abs-olutely,” Kenny said, turning and walking backwards so he could flash his beloved, perfectly carved ten-pack at them with a practiced shirtlift maneuver and a shit-eating grin. He was damned proud of that magnificent washboard, and Zack knew that his own flat eight-pack couldn’t compare to Kenny’s five deep-chiseled rows of luscious abdominals. “We’re all ears!” Kenny added, and then, adjusting his big package as if just to underline his cockiness, he turned back around. Zack shook his head, though his eyes, inevitably, got caught on Kenny’s ass.

“Such a cocktease,” Joey said, highly amused. The way he’d said it Zack wondered whether Joey had ever tried to get Kenny to befriend one of Joey’s beautiful dicks. “Such a fucking ass,” he added gently, lips close to Zack’s ear, and Zack wondered if they were still talking about Kenny. He was pretty sure lately that Joey liked Zack’s hard round ass a lot, though it had nothing on Joey’s own.

Joey was making his last comment about asses as they strolled into the dining commons, which, it turned out, was as completely deserted as if the Rapture had recently taken place and they were the only ones left behind. Not only were there no other students, which was to be expected as the other grades had been sent away, but there was no sign of staff—or food. Zack gritted his teeth, all thoughts of ass, heavy equipment, or other carnal attractions set aside, for the moment.

“See what I mean?” Zack said, though he was starting to not expect much in response. This was getting to be an old argument by now, and the others just didn’t see it.

“I like it quiet,” Pavel said with a broad smile, as he had before, and Zack sighed. “C’mon, Joseph,” he added, nodding to Joey, who was still draped around his shoulders. “Let’s cook breakfast. Then maybe afterwards we can get up a football match.” Kenny perked up at this.

“Naw, bro,” Joey said. “I’m good.” He squeezed Zack’s shoulders, leaving him in no doubt as to why he was “good.” Zack glanced over at him, only to be caught up in Joey’s admiring, lustful gaze. He really was quite handsome, in a bluff, cornfed jock kind of way that was totally different from the model-hot Pavel or the tall, lanky Luis or the skinny, gym-bodied puppy Kenny or the bookish boy-next-door twins. Zack was also really loving Joey’s steady regimen of gentle, synchronized caresses on his pecs and across his triple delts, and not just because Zack was still pleasantly sore from their morning workout. The matching set of delts on the left side, closest to him, were kind of itching for similar treatment, and Zack rubbed them against the front of Joey’s shoulders, feeling the slight slick of a bit of sweat as their firm muscles rubbed together.

As Joey smiled at him Zack realized with some surprise that his recent almost manic habit of always wanting to hang out with the whole group of them (partly because they were all sexy enough to give him a low-grade erotic buzz most of the time, especially en masse, and partly out of an unconscious, irrational fear that even they’d start disappearing one by one), was at least for the moment receding. Right now, Zack kind of wanted to be alone with Joey.

He shook his head, trying to distract himself with what the others were up to. Pavel. Cooking. Zack knew who would be the replacement for the very content Joey, as Luis knew his way around a kitchen and had already been helping out periodically when food service staff was short. Sure enough, Luis said, “I’ll lend you a hand,” and headed toward where Pavel stood, by the swinging doors into the back areas. Criminy, now they were all doing it without even meaning to.

“Or four,” Pavel answered with a smirk. Luis shrugged, all his hands kept buried in his roomy pockets, and they headed into the kitchen.

Joey, still clinging to Zack with both his comfortably thick-muscled right arms, guided them over to one of the long, heavy rectangular tables, and as they sat and looked into its polished walnut surface Zack knew Zack was finding his embrace and his company increasingly distracting and wanted. Kenny sat directly opposite them, grinning widely at their display, and the twins, a little unusually, sat on either side of him instead of next to each other.

“You two seem cozy today,” Kenny crooned, grinning from ear to ear as he looked between them, blue eyes dancing. “You’ve been arm in arm since we left the gym.” As if to demonstrate, he wrapped his two nicely thick right arms around Ewan and his left arms around Iain. Zack didn’t expect the twins would tolerate this, but they seemed okay with it. Kenny didn’t seem to be aware of the body expressions anymore either, Zack noticed. Another scheme by Pavel succeeding, and the troublemaker was off in the kitchens, busy whipping up batter for French toast.

Zack felt Joey looking at him cockily. Damn, Zack really liked being wrapped up in his hard, humpy body. Fuck it. “Yeah, I guess we are,” Zack said, and threw his own back two left arms around Joey’s broad, thick shoulders, feeling the nice traps under his middle forearm as it mirrored the drape Joey had going around Zack’s neck and the bulging delts Zack was caressing with his back left hand. His front left hand Zack let rest on his meaty thigh, and this move made Joey suck in his breath. Zack glanced over at him and Joey was staring at him hungrily, a huge grin on his handsome, boyish face. Zack stared at him, enjoying the close look at the sparse dusting of faint, tiny freckles across Joey’s nose and the tops of his cheeks. They weren’t really noticeable unless you were this close, which was a shame, Zack thought, because they were damn adorable.

“Can’t help it,” Joey agreed, answering Kenny without looking away from Zack. His hazel eyes caught Zack’s and stayed locked on him until were kind of filling Zack’s vision. Zack wanted to count the gold flecks amidst the greenish-brown. “He’s too gorgeous,” Joey was saying. He went on with a wink, “It’s like he laid a trap for me. And,” he added, still saucy but with real affection, “I got caught.” Impressed by his earnestness Zack squeezed his bumpy shoulders tightly and Joey did the same, drawing them even closer—close enough Zack could feel his warm breath on his cheek.

“C’mon, kiss him,” Kenny pressed. “You gotta give us that, c’mon. Throw us a bone here!”

Given that he’d been the one to start all this, Zack was surprised when Joey hesitated. “You want to?” he asked quietly.

Zack couldn’t tear his gaze away to look at Kenny, but he decided he would in fact throw their big-dicked (there were no secrets in a boarding school, of course, especially if you were a few inches bigger than everyone else and adorably bashful at first about people finding out) British muscle twink a bone by echoing his previous words. “Yes,” Zack answered, smiling as the pupils of Joey’s eyes slowly expanded with arousal and anticipated pleasure. “Abs-olutely.”

“Niiiiiice,” cooed Kenny. Then, as they kept up the gooey staring into each other’s eyes, Kenny began softly chanting: “Do it … do it …” Then, to his surprise, the twins joined in, their slightly higher tenor voices making a kind of harmony with Kenny’s baritone: “Do it … do it … do it … do it …!”

Unable to keep from grinning at each other, they reached up and put hands to each other’s faces, and in the space of a heartbeat the distance between them melted away and his lips were covering Joey’s. Zack heard him moan slightly as their mouths opened up to each other. Their warm tongues slid together and Zack moaned a little too, wondering why they hadn’t done this before. Without even thinking about how only Zack could do this out of their group, Zack brushed his firm jawline with the thumb of one right hand even as Zack used another right hand to grope his extra-thick pecs through his shirt and, with the third, checked out his groin where Zack quickly discovered his three rock-hard erections straining at the zipper of his trousers.

Zack deepened the kiss as Zack mauled his muscles and cocks, and Joey eagerly copied him—through, as he was already feeling him up with the right arm draped round his neck, Joey slid his remaining left hand, the one that wasn’t cupping his cheek, down his bumpy ten-pack straight to the crotches of Zack’s three-legged pants where he was obviously relieved and delighted to discover that Zack’s fat, overstimulated cocks were just as hard as his were and probably not far from actual eruption.

Their movements shifted gears and turned more intense. Their kiss became long, slow, and deep, and what was happening with their mouths and lips and tongues seemed to consumer all their feelings and sensations. After several moments of raw, torrential pleasure cascading through them they subsided and broke the kiss just to smile at each other, though their warm, strong hands remained exactly where they were, languidly stroking flushed cheeks, heavy pecs, and straining cocks. In a way this soft, unceasing fondling of each other all over, from face to crotch, was just as perfect as the kissing. They were both a little high on the idea of gentle, mutual erotic stimulation that did not have to stop.

“Fuck, dudes,” Kenny groaned, and they spared him a look. He was staring at them in apparent awe, blue eyes blazing. The twins looked similarly slackjawed, wrapped as they still were in Kenny’s strong butterfly embrace. “I was totally not ex-pec-ting that to be so nuclear hot,” said the slightly top-heavy muscle twink, and the twins nodded in mute agreement.

“Glad you liked it,” Joey said, turning to Zack. “We sure did.”

They kept on kissing off and on, licking each other’s tongues and nipping the other’s lips, pausing the show only to get encouragement from their enthralled audience, until the food came out a while later, and in that moment it occurred to Zack to wonder if he and Joey would ever physically unentwine again. He certainly wasn’t seeing any reason to anytime soon.

“So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Luis asked casually, not looking up from where he was cradling a large mixing bowl of waffle batter in the crook of his left arm, beating it vigorously and deftly with his right hands—inner hand gripping the wooden spoon, outer hand wrapped around the inner.

“What do you mean?” Pavel replied just as casually from here he laid out a rasher of fresh bacon on the 24-inch flat griddle to slow cook while the waffles were started.

Luis didn’t answer at first. Instead he dropped the pint of already washed blueberries into the batter and poured the first batch of batter onto the already-hot industrial-size waffle iron. Satisfied everything was in order he closed the top and rounded slowly on Pavel. “Don’t be a dick,” he said, though he kept his voice calm, as if this were a polite request and the most mundane of courtesies. “Or at least, more of a dick than usual. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know you’re up to something.”

Pavel was watching him with obvious amusement as he used the metal tongs to shift the soft-frying bacon around on the grill. “Up to what?” Pavel said. The hunk’s nonchalant smirk only seemed to confirm Luis’s suspicions.

“I know you, remember?” Luis said, feeling an edge of the frustration he was always so good at hiding under a calm, cool demeanor he liked to think the others depended on. “I’ve known you longer than any of the others, since we first got here. Two lonely fifth-graders. You learned to deal with it by becoming a prankster—and I always figured it out. Remember? I know when you’re up to something.” Luis sighed. “It’s like you want to play with us, just for your amusement,” he added, not without affection: he knew how bored and alone Pavel was.

He wanted to go over to Pavel and shake him by his (ugh) incredibly beautiful shoulders, but he couldn’t leave his waffles while they were cooking. Besides, he thought morosely as he stared at the red light on the top surface of the iron, willing it to turn green, if he get any closer to Pavel right now, all his cocks are going to go from half chubbed to rock hard, and he’ll be even more smug. He wished he knew why he’d been feeling so horny lately, and wondered if he could blame Pavel for that, too. Probably, he thought.

His mind drifted into the jerking off he’d undoubtedly have to find a way to get done after breakfast, and not for he first time felt grateful for how the arrangement of his hands let him grab both boners in each crotch and flog them all at once, each of his long torpedo cocks gripped in its own wide, six-fingered hand, while—

Shit, he was getting hard again. He needed to stop thinking about his cocks. He stole a glance at Pavel to see him turning all the bacon over with the tongs, an action that made the perfectly shaped muscles of his arms and shoulders much and move under the dark-red uniform shirt. God. That wasn’t helping. He realized he was smelling perfectly cooked waffle even as the light flicked to green with a faint clack, and he opened the iron and shifted the four huge waffles on to the warming plate. Then he concentrated on spooning on more batter, all the while willing his dicks to behave. He didn’t like feeling this uncontrolled, and he let a bit of anger well up in him as an antidote to his increasingly fever-like horniness.

“You really set my teeth on edge,” he growled, though he kept his eyes down, staring again at the read “waffles are cooking” light. “It’s like you enjoy getting on our nerves. Why is it all of us have to take it on the chin while you don’t even bat an eye?” He turned and faced Pavel, who’s already plated the bacon and was staring at Luis, wide-eyed at the sudden rant from the usually soft-voiced man. “What’s your game with us?” Luis demanded, not really realizing that Pavel was cautiously closing the distance between them. “I don’t even understand what you’re after when you’re all mysterious like this. Are you trying to create bad blood between us? Set us at each other’s throats? Is it—”

“Waffles,” Pavel broke in softly, nodding at the waffle iron behind him. Luis blinked, confused at the non sequitur, then realized with a start that he could smell the waffles edging past “cooked”. Stifling a curse, he turned around and hastily lifted the lid. He’d caught them in time—nothing was burned—but he was flustered and managed to burn the knuckle on one of his right index fingers against the hot iron as he was easing the waffles onto the warming plate.

Pavel’s hand on his shoulder made him start, and he turned to see the beautiful dark eyes staring into his. Unconsciously Luis held his breath. Keeping one hand on Luis’s shoulder, Pavel dropped his other hand from where he’d been doing his familiar ear-tugging gesture and gently took Luis’s right hands near where they merged at the wrist. Luis watched, speechless, as Pavel brought them to his thick, wine-red lips. He kissed the little red triangle where Luis had burned himself, and Luis shuddered at the pleasure that seemed to soak deep and intoxicating right into his hand where Pavel’s lips touched him.

“Why do you feel so good?” Luis whispered almost automatically, not expecting an answer. But he got a kind of response as Pavel, lowering Luis’s hands but not letting go of them, moved in for a kiss. Just the touch of his lips felt like fireworks exploding all through his body, from his mind and heart to every muscle and sinew to his four huge, throbbing torpedo cocks as they thrust and flexed under his shirt, two on the left and two on the right, all of them straining to harden even more as if a supreme effort might somehow stretch them the remaining couple of inches to his pecs. Luis thrilled at the intimacy with Pavel, his cocks so hard and aroused they were certain not to get soft anytime soon. As they kissed Luis felt his middle foot lifting slightly, realizing with some tiny corner of his mind how ridiculous it was that he should be making such an old-fashioned romantic gesture at a simple kiss from Pavel. Only, it didn’t seem very ridiculous at all.

Pavel let the kiss go after they’d only barely touched their hot, eager tongues, and as he pulled back Luis shuddered. Pavel just winked, but the look on his uncannily gorgeous face told Luis that the separation was reluctant on both their parts. “C’mon,” Pavel said. “The others are hungry. Though not as hungry as you are, I’ll bet,” he added cockily.

Luis smiled crookedly at him. “You’re such a dick,” he said. When Pavel raised his dark eyebrows in faux surprise, Luis repeated himself. “That’s right, a dick! A big, huge—” Pavel stopped him with a kiss, then stepped back, grinning, before turning to collect the plate of bacon and the two pitchers of orange juice and heading out through the swinging doors. “Don’t forget the syrups,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared.

Luis watched him go, shaking his head. “Ass,” he muttered, but his crooked smile told the story, were there any to see. He adjusted his snug, butt-hugging trousers and, just barely refraining from brushing his knuckles against the six achingly hard monster boners visibly shifting and straining under his school shirt, he sighed and began gathering up the waffles and syrups before heading back to the hall to rejoin his friends—and Pavel, whom he suddenly realized he wanted to be a little more than a friend.

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